The Door I Closed Poem by Vanessa Dizon Alvarez

The rooms were filled with quiet storms,
though I was told to call it love.
I learned to walk on careful steps,
and hide the voice I dreamed of.

Family was a word they used,
a rule I could not bend.
But love should never feel like chains,
or wounds that never mend.


They said, "But they're your family."
As if that made it right.
As if the hurt could disappear
beneath a borrowed light.

But blood is not a promise,
and names don't heal the pain.
I chose to keep my spirit whole,
and not be bound again.


One day I packed my courage,
and stepped into the air.
No farewell, no heavy words—
just freedom waiting there.

The door I closed was gentle,
yet it echoed in my chest.
For the first time, I felt safe,
for the first time, I felt blessed.

The New Beginning
I found my family in kind hearts,
in people who saw me true.
Not in blood, but in kindness,
not in chains, but in new.

And though the past still lingers,
like shadows on the floor,
I walk with peace, unbroken
I don't need them anymore.